


the art of defiance

by meremennen



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clarke has a solid plan to serve that Griffin justice™️, F/M, Fluff and Humor, fictober19, rivals turned friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 14:34:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21163229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meremennen/pseuds/meremennen
Summary: A bellarke modern AU.Written for the event #fictober19, for the Prompt (3.) “Now? Now you listen to me?”.OR,the One in which Clarke convinces Bellamy Blake to be her partner in crime in breaking into a notoriously bad professor’s office.





	the art of defiance

#

_Thump._

_ Thump. _

Without as much as uttering a word, they make it halfway across the space, only their heavy, irregular pants filling the silence. 

Her lungs rise and fall, almost painfully so, as if they’ve climbed several flights of stairs.

Nevertheless, her body sings with the excitement. The excitement is a potent side effect of the adrenaline burning through her bloodstream — thanks to being at a forbidden place at a forbidden hour. Strictly speaking, what she is about to do, no, what she is already doing is not exactly commendable student behavior. And she’s dragged Bellamy into this. Shame on her. But she needed a good — the best — wingman.

Her heart is kicking wildly against her ribcage — _ ta dum ta dum ta dum ta dum _ — again, no surprises — if her human body was a canvas right now, each kick and tremor would leave its mark: blotches in varying sizes, permanently etching into the surface.

She tries, God knows, she tries to regain some sense of control over her lungs, but no thanks. 

At least she knows she does make an effort to keep the noise to a minimum.

Bellamy? Not so much.

His voice carries. 

“Clarke. Stop.”

She can tell, he’s recovered most of his strength by now, definitely enough of it not to break his voice mid-sentence.

His voice also sounds deeper than usual — just the way she secretly loves it — making her heart jump a little despite the very present agitated edge to it.

She cannot blame him for the tone, no. Not really. 

It was her idea to break into Professor Wallace’s office bright daylight, through the vents. 

Let the record state that Bellamy Blake — uncrowned bad boy of 2015, en route to graduate with flying colours and starting his internship turned real job as a junior associate at _ Kane and Pike and Associates _ in 2020, her partner in crime — objected. 

Of course he did. 

Climbing in and through the vents with the sole purpose of sneaking into a professor’s office on a non-consulting day like some classy thieves, is a risky thing to do. And not just during the day and this near to midterms.

She is not an idiot, she knows that.

But.

As cliché as it sounds, it was now or never.

Also.

Some days, she swears, Bellamy Blake is more of a good boy than he is letting anyone else to see — that is, for those who care to see at all beyond his outer layers. Alas, most people judge by appearance: His unruly mop of curls sticking up at random angles. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing endless bronze skin and toned muscles and freckles everywhere in a very very _ very _ tantalizing way. The infuriatingly sexy smirk ... All screams trouble.

Years spent being rivals-turned-friends, Clarke can say with certainty that she knows him and all his layers well at this point. 

Bellamy Blake is all tough and rebellious on the outside, but a walking rule book on the inside when it comes to breaking some rules. Namely, the ones she wants to break. 

In her defence, asshole professor deserves it. And even if Bellamy seems to play chicken right now, deep down he agrees: their Ethics (ha ha, A Joke) professor, Cage Wallace, deserves the prank (and much, _ much _ more than) what she has carefully planned for him. Bellamy has been subjected not once to his belittling jabs and ‘special’ attention and everything; he just thinks that having a good job lined up and proving Wallace wrong on the long run is a good enough vindication from the universe. 

Nuh-uh. 

Clarke wants to strike where it stings. She wants to wound his ego.

And that’s why she’s decided to sneak into Wallace’s office and snap the pictures, cataloguing all the details, down to every book and pen and crumpled piece of paper (Step 1), before they sneak back in through the night (Step 3). Possibly recruiting Miller and his impressively buff boyfriend, Bryan, maybe a few others (Step 2) — Jasper Jordan seems to be eager to join any sort of mischief, especially if he deems it to be epic and fun — only to disassemble and rebuild the professor’s office interior out in the quad (Step 4).

It’s a solid plan, it should work. 

If only Bellamy were not freaking out when Step 1 is already in motion.

They are in. 

They’ve made it.

True, climbing the vent took them a bit longer and had proven to be more exhausting than anticipated, so what. They’ve made it inside the office so far without any major hiccups. And now that they are in and standing in the middle of joke professor’s office, Bellamy turns stiff like a rod and shushes her to silence whenever the steps and voices outside are echoing too loud or too close and honestly ... Clarke is not an amateur. She has given plenty of thought to this. When push comes to shove, they could always claim they needed a quiet place to make out. 

It’s not something they’ve discussed upfront. She believes a positive attitude paves the way to success. There’s no need to bring up failure scenarios prematurely and jinx this mission.

Nevertheless, he would fly with whatever she comes up with if it saved a life. It’s just a kiss, anyway. _ A fake _ kiss. It wouldn’t mean anything between friends.

(Clarke also believes if he wanted to kiss her, he would have done it by now. So really. It wouldn't be a big deal. At all.)

(Although ... a girl can dream and yes, call her a dreamer, but at times she thinks that despite years of being just friends, they are in fact very good friends, and the fire in his eyes is not just about the drive of winning an argument.)

(Sure, she is a planner, too. If stage one goes wrong, her exit strategy will save them.)

She sighs. 

Right now, though, she needs The Guy who has given numerous passionate speeches. To Jaha, the dean, for funds. To the soccer team, as their Captain, and consequently having led them to battle at times the team morale was low.

That Guy is the deal.

That Bellamy is her favourite. 

To think she used to think 2015 Bellamy had been a self-absorbed jackass, driven by some weird bad boy complex ... 

He wasn’t at all like she’d imagined he would be and some part of her still feels bad for being so judgemental. (But he had misjudged her, too. So in a way they are even.)

Back to the present, Clarke stops in her tracks and turns to look at him.

Bellamy is a few steps behind her, head tilted slightly, holding his breath and watching her. 

He needs to loosen up a little.

Inspired by a sudden, silly idea, Clarke plants her right foot for better balance, raises on her left tiptoe and twirls around, bowing for him in a salute.

“As you wish.”

Bellamy snorts, and takes a step closer. 

“**Now? Now you listen to me?**”

“Shush, Princess,” she quips back, making him stop and gaping at her wildly. 

She feels victorious. 

A long beat passes. 

He huffs.

She puts a hand on her hips, puffing her chest, the material of her t-shirt stretches, making the fit seem more snug than it actually is. She raises her chin to face him fully, bringing them eye to eye.

His eyes drop, only for a second, before he catches himself (but not before a slight flush creeps into his cheeks) and shakes his head. His gaze is back on her face in a heartbeat, still gaping.

Clarke smiles, batting her eyelashes rapidly at him, unabashedly overdoing it. 

He rolls his eyes in response.

“Please. Just take those damn pictures and let’s leave. We’ve got quite a climb ahead,” he jerks his head towards the ceiling, gesturing towards the vent. 

“That’s the spirit,” she says cheerfully. “Now, you do your job and keep watch, partner.” 

He gives her the look, which she ignores. Not wasting any more time, she is moving around the room, snapping pictures from every angle, with a healthy amount of adrenaline racing through her veins as the time ticks by with every snap and sigh and creak and swirl of movement.

In the end, it is a warm hand on her shoulders that makes her stop in her tracks. Voice thick like honey tickles the skin under her ear and neck.

“Clarke. I think someone’s coming. Shit.”

And indeed. 

There are steps approaching and ringing louder with each echoing step down the hall, accompanied by the jiggling of keys.

Bellamy looks at her, eyes wide. In all honesty, she finds him equally hilarious and adorable; _ if only _she weren’t so certain he has risked a lot by saying yes to her quest. And technically, yes, breaking and entering into Joke Professor’s sacred temple would still not be overseen without any consequence by the dean.

“What do we do now? There’s not enough time to -“

Clarke acts on instinct. 

She thought of everything and she has a solid plan; including emergencies, exactly like this, right? 

She cups his face and guides his head down and plants a kiss on his lips. Just the touch of the lips, no tongue, and she doesn’t move an inch until she feels him stop fidgeting, until his breathing is more even and calm, until the hammering in his chest feels less wild under her touch. 

Somewhere, in the back of her mind she notices, her palms have settled against the solid planes of his chest somehow, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world. The tips of her fingers are digging into his firm muscles. It’s more intimate than they’ve ever been, minus the touch of the lips, which should maybe scare her but she feels confident and strong. 

She pulls away eventually, loosening her grip on him.

“Oops. False alert,” she hums, drawing her bottom lip under her teeth.

Bellamy looks stunned. 

He blinks once, then twice, before ducking his head, in an attempt to hide his smile.

(He fails.)

And the look in his eyes tells her if he weren’t still affected by the kiss, he’d close that offending gap between them and seal his lips against hers once more. Only then would they see at last who can render whom speechless for longer. 

She half-shrugs, as innocently as she can muster.

“It was worth a try.”

He gulps. 

“A good try,” he rasps and it is not long before his eyes narrow, watching her more intently.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think _ that _ has been your master plan all along and not ...” he trails off. He closes his eyes for a second as if to will himself to calm down,” and not robbing Wallace’s office clean.”

She scoffs. 

“Robbing? Please. We came to snap a few innocent pictures. The kiss,“ she sighs, voice quieter now,” consider it … a perk ... For your efforts.”

There. 

He can take it or leave it.

He licks his lips, giving her a slow nod. 

“You call that a kiss?”

His eyes are dark and glinting with mischief.

She sighs in relief. Looks like they are on the same wavelength ... 

Yes. Without a doubt. 

Finally.

“_I _ call that a teaser.” She says, feeling energized by the look he is giving her.” And it clearly worked on you, if you want more, mister —“

She doesn’t have time to finish because Bellamy is pulling her closer, a hot palm a distracting but sure presence at the nape of her neck, making her skin tingle. His dark eyes watching her intently as he leans and leans and leans and keeps leaning, until their faces are barely an inch away. He brushes his nose against hers playfully before he captures her lips with his own and the next thing she knows is breathing heavily and feeling so out of breath, it should be illegal. Bellamy guides her backward until he has her pressed against the huge, antique bookshelf lining the other wall, hard surface digging into her back deliciously. With his mouth on hers, greedy and insistent, she almost misses the beep of her phone that reminds her it is probably time to have a raincheck. Wrap this up and go before they get caught for real.

Bellamy Blake, her partner in crime, can be very distracting if he wants to. 

“Raincheck?” he asks, extending his hand.

She has half a mind to nod, a little belatedly, still feeling somewhat disoriented by the kiss.

He helps her climb the vent, and they are back to the janitor’s closet in no time after that. 

“So,” he says,” Do you … wanna like … do something later together?”

“Sure,” she says. “What do you want to do?”

He smiles, cheeky, arching an eyebrow.

“Your exit strategy needs a bit of polishing. Don’t you think?”

“Whatever you say.”

*

Bellamy Blake, as she learns, has a few more layers to him than he let her see before. And as her boyfriend, he‘s not holding back.

She learns, he can be the best kind of a bad boy. He is her person. And let’s be honest, he always has been. 

*** *

**Author's Note:**

> *** I apologise for any editing mistakes, I’m posting this from the phone. ***
> 
> Thanks for reading, kudos'ing and commenting xx


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